RIP Fuzz Club

After ten years, tonight will be the final Fuzz Club at the University of Sheffield. In case you don't know, Fuzz Club is (was) the indie club night where, as a student, I watched many a brilliant gig. Most universities have indie/rock nights, but none as consistently wonderful as Fuzz Club. Bands I watched included Maximo Park, Art Brut, the Long Blondes and Keane. Once, the Arctic Monkeys supported the Ordinary Boys. After the bands came the indie disco, usually featuring Cannonball by the Breeders, The Modern Age by the Strokes and Date With The Night by Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Good fun, yes, but I usually preferred watching the bands. That's the sort of person I am.

I'm sorry to hear of its demise. Does this indicate a decline in the demand for indie nights at universities? Probably not. Not many club nights make it to their tenth anniversary, and it's just time for something new. While the Liverpool club/party scene always underachieves (sorry Liverpool, I know you're my current home but it's true), the Sheffield club/party scene overachieves. Come September there'll be quirky club nights all over the city. Probably held in basements, playing only pagan disco.

So let's all raise a glass of Snakebite and black in memory. Or Jagermeister, if that's your thing. Goodbye Fuzz Club: whenever I hear Molly's Chambers by Kings of Leon I'll think of you.

A fitting tribute

Hello internetz. I took a break from blogging. To start with, I was ill. Eurgh, so ill. Then I was better, but I couldn't bring myself to blog. Just the thought of signing into Blogger's dashboard gave me the blog sweats. Why? Fear, probably. I think I've overcome it now.
The other day I was waiting to catch a train on Merseyrail. If you don't know, Merseyrail is similar to the London Underground, yet somehow grubbier and less punctual. Once upon a time (probably in the 1970s), it was decided that Merseyrail's official colours would be a cheerful yellow and a sophisticated chocolate brown. Unfortunately, I always think it looks like nicotine yellow and poo brown.
But anyway, I was waiting when another train passed through the station. One carriage had the words 'John Peel' stencilled on. It was too quick for me to snap a picture. A fitting tribute to a great man? Hmmm...
Another John Peel tribute is The Ravenscroft, a pub in Heswall, Wirral. Mr Peel was born John Ravenscroft, in said town. A large picture of Peelie surveys the staircase up to the toilets.
The Ravenscroft is one of those anonymous, beige pubs with pleather couches and a muted plasma screen with rolling Sky Sports News. As my dear friend Nigel pointed out, not the sort of drinking establishment that Peelie would have particularly liked. And, equally, not the sort of drinking establishment that would have welcomed a man like Peelie.